


When the Tiger's Away

by Brynncognito



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Also Jim has a frenum piercing because fuck you that's why, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gen, Inanimate Object Porn, Jim gets intimately acquainted with Sebastian's leather jacket, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 22:51:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynncognito/pseuds/Brynncognito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sebastian's out for a bit, Jim has a little fun with his leather jacket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Tiger's Away

If asked, Jim would probably admit the _wrongness_ of the act contributes at least half its appeal. The criminal mastermind has always been one for breaking society's cute little rules, and the bedroom is far from an exception. Really, it's a wonder he's bothered to retreat to the bedroom at all with his prize-- the beloved leather jacket of his _favourite_ sniper.

There’s something almost reverent in the way Jim lays out the jacket, left hand already creeping down to his groin to tease his stirring prick through his designer trousers. Unlike every article of clothing Jim wears, the jacket is _far_ from name-brand. It’s almost cheap, as far as leather jackets go, but it being the real cowhide deal means Moran probably spent a pretty penny on it way back when.

All of these thoughts flit through Jim’s mind in a matter of seconds. He simple can’t be arsed to _deduce_ anything further when his cock’s over half-hard already. Jim licks his lips in anticipation as he unfastens his belt and trousers, fishing himself out of his green silk boxers rather than stripping properly. Despite his usual care for his attire, Jim’s always enjoyed a good wank or fuck with clothes on. But then, he’s always been something of a _contradiction_.

As his erection springs free, Jim can’t help but sigh in relief. For a moment, he just lazily teases himself, thumb rolling over the head and gently flicking his frenum piercing until he’s hissing, his cock throbbing even when he stops stimulating himself — and stop he does. Where would the fun be in coming without the aid of his Sebby’s jacket?

Jim’s free hand snatches up his pilfered masturbatory aid, holding it up to his face so he can breathe in the mixture of leather, cigarette smoke, beer, and Sebastian. When Jim exhales, it’s with a throaty groan. For a moment, the normally posh businessman considers just using saliva to ease his strokes, but he’s not quite far enough gone for that. Instead, he grumbles and leans all the way over to snag the bottle of lube he keeps shamelessly displayed on his bedside table. It takes Jim a bit of awkward shifting and fumbling before he finally pops the bottle open to squeeze a dollop and a half onto his palm, but then he’s finally almost purring as he slicks up his cock.

This time, as he buries his face in worn leather, Jim’s eyes actually roll back in his head with pleasure, because it’s accompanied by the smooth glide of his tight fist over his prick. _God_ , it’s fucking perfect, almost more-so than actually fucking the man himself, because he feels so much more deliciously _filthy_ doing this instead. Jim’s panting now, fucking his fist as he rubs his face into the jacket like a cat in heat, like he’s marking his territory.

When the pleasure building in his groin finally explodes, the resulting climax tears a strangled shout from Jim's throat. The first shot of viscous ejaculate damn near hits the wall; the rest of his semen spills onto his floor and bedspread and oozes weakly out over his fist as he wrings the last few aftershocks out.

When it’s finally over, Jim just slumps for a moment, still nuzzling into Sebastian’s jacket almost languidly before he finally drops it off to the side and peers carefully downward to ensure he hasn’t left any embarrassing stains on his trousers.

By the time his live-in arrives, Jim will be back to his usual, utterly unruffled appearance, jacket hanging exactly where he found it. But while Sebastian Moran might be no, well, _Jim Moriarty_ , the man’s also no idiot. If he happens to know or figure out Jim’s half-secret little kink, well, that just adds to the _fun_ of it.


End file.
